Mac's Monster
by bleedingrose0688
Summary: Some monsters are born, others are made.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: So this is my first posting in the Red Canyon section and I'm hoping it may not be my last. This is just one of those drabbles that came to me and I had to get it written out otherwise I wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight (weird maybe?) Anyway, I'm on the fence as to whether this should be a one-shot or if I should continue it at one point. With it being 2:30 in the morning where I'm at it was kind of difficult to get my brain to function on the smut aspect but I'm hoping the rest of the story makes up for that. Let me know your thoughts on the way out._

 **Beauty and the Beast**

"You've been watching that fucking Forensic Files shit again, haven't you? How many times I gotta tell ya ain't no one dumb enough to be snooping around here, 'specially Pratt."

"Sorry Mac, just thought one of these days something from that show may come in handy." I replied sheepishly running the blade along the stone just like he had shown me.

"Remind me again why I keep you around?" he turned his head to look at me, those piercing blue eyes holding nothing but a promise of death.

"Sometimes you need someone to kill and no ordinary person will do. You know I always find you the ones that are guaranteed to put up a struggle. And in return you keep me alive for another day. Although the sex is the best I've ever had; raw, primal…not to mention when you're meth'd out of your fucking head it just makes the fucking so much better."

The snort that escaped didn't go unnoticed and neither did the screams of our newest playmate. Ever since we brought her here two days ago she's done nothing but hollered; I never understood how Mac could tolerate that much noise for days on end. One of these days I wish he'd just let me slit their throats and bask in silence, but these caves were his playground and with him being the ruler of the roost we played by his rules. He always enjoyed the screamers the best; the more noise they made the more fun he ended up having.

" _Help me!_ " she's been shouting those same words for the last few days and dawn was just beginning to approach on the third day of her capture. God how can he fucking think?

"Go ahead, not a fucking mark on her until I say, you got me? Remember what happened the last time you broke the rules?" he snarled, continuing his work on the latest batch for Walter.

"I remember you fucked me senseless and I got a nice new mark because of it. Is that how I should go about getting your attention these days? Maybe I should break the rules a little more often."

"Skating on thin ice." He warned.

Hopping off the workbench I had been sitting on I abandoned the stone and disappeared from the tiny room holding the blade that has since become a familiar extension of my hand. Mac always had to have things done his way but that didn't mean I couldn't have a little fun in the process. The lantern in the other room allowed our shadows to been seen in the lab so anything I did wouldn't go unseen. I knew he'd be watching me with careful scrutiny waiting for me to fuck up, but like him I rarely (if ever) make mistakes.

"Please, just let me go, I promise I won't say anything to anyone. What is it that you want? Anything, you name it, just-"

"I'm not the one you plead your case too."

Lifting the blade I made the tiny cuts to the remainder of her clothing watching the pieces of fabric fall limp as they fell in different directions. The more that came off the faster the tears fell until finally there was nothing left but a pile of scraps at my feet. She continued to whimper and make offerings for her freedom as I watched the light bounce off of the tip of the knife, waiting for Mac to give the word. After what seemed like a sufficient amount of time had passed I slipped back into the tiny room and went back to sharpening my knife.

This was going to be one of the ones he drew out for days.

"Go check, no marks just like you said."

"Don't need to."

"You could've let me rough her up a bit, maybe a couple of tiny cuts just to make her scream a little."

"I'll think about it. Go out to the truck and get what we need out of the back. Don't be dragging your fucking feet this time. Don't worry about the fucking cunt in there, she'll be screaming good and loud by the time you get back. Leave the fucking knife!"

Throwing the knife into the ground I sulked back out of the room to go get the shit I know he intentionally left in the truck. The thought of smacking her around a bit did cross my mind but knowing the mood Mac was in now would mean I wouldn't be getting laid tonight. He only left his shit in the truck when we'd be spending an entire week out here.

Small, methodical cuts in between meth hits, whiskey shots, and all the sex we could handle. Sometimes our guest of honor would be caught in the middle of it, sometimes they were the star of his deranged fantasies, either way he always got off.

But just as he promised her screams penetrated throughout the caves even as I made my way out to get what we needed. It had taken weeks to find just the right tools; before I came along he was wasting Walter's product in getting them high and was dragging it out for a day or two at the most before he fucked and killed them. After though, he found the value in keeping them alive just a little bit longer. Their pleas, whimpers, and cries were like music to our ears; listening to each one as they carried out the same tune of 'help me' or 'I'll do anything.'

Of course they'd do anything, but 'anything' has its price and the price must be paid.

For me, the price to be paid was a life for a life. I have no regrets for what I did, except one and that was that I could only kill the son of a bitch once.

Heaving the crate from the back of the truck I walked back inside listening intently to the screams that echoed off the walls; a small smile gracing my face as I got closer to the sound of sweet music that filled the night air. The sight I was greeted by had the smile I carried replaced with disdain as I watched him slide his dick in and out of her, his teeth sinking into her neck as she continued to scream in pain. The chains rattling with their collective movements until finally he wrapped a hand around her throat as he came deep within her, the strangulation causing her to pass out. He pulled out of her and tucked himself back into his coveralls and tied the sleeves around his waist.

"Did you really have to start the party without me again?" I asked setting the crate on the workbench just across from the ratty old mattress.

"Better they know ahead of time who the real monster is. You got everything?"

"It's all there. Would you ever let me be the monster? Just once?"

"Why? You wanna be the one who decides who gets to live and how long?"

"I just get tired of being the one who ropes them into the whole 'let's have a threesome' and then drag them out here. Just once I want _you_ to bring someone and let _me_ be the one to make the decisions. Just once I want to watch _you_ be the one sitting in the chair waiting for _me_ to say it's okay for you to join in. It's one thing if you brought another girl out here for us to play with, but if you brought a guy out here under the pretense of a threesome you know I'd never let him fuck me. My pussy belongs to you and only you, if anything he'd be getting a hand job or a blow job and I'd never let him cum. But why am I telling you all this, it'll never happen." I explained, leaning against the wood, folding my arms across my chest.

"You're fucking right it'll never happen! The fuck kinda stupid shit you been reading when I'm not home? More of those soft-porn books, that ain't how a real man fucks. You wanna be fucked by a real man, I'll fucking show you how it's done!"

His voice echoed off the walls of the cave as he made quick work of the shirt and jeans I was wearing. Mac was never one for taking his time; when he wanted something he wanted it right then and there.

The wood of the workbench bit into my hands and back as it splintered off in small sections, my leg hitched around his hip and he drove himself home. The pain of him going in dry was something I had become accustomed to over time but soon it turned to pleasure. His hips snapping against mine as he worked hard and fast to completion; Mac always did know how to get the job done right the first time. It wasn't long before I felt the familiar serrated edges of the blade travel down my arm or to feel his teeth sinking into my breast. The blood trickled down until it began to fall from my fingertips; the purples and blues coming to light the harder he bit down. It was starting to become too much and if he intended on drawing this out much longer I wasn't sure if I'd be able to participate in what he had planned for her.

"Mac…"

The beast that flashed for a moment in his eyes was nearly enough to send me over the edge but I knew better. Pulling out, I was spun around and bent over the wooden top; my face grated along the unfinished wood, my legs kicked further apart. A sharp smack had me crying out as I attempted to lift my head from the top but it was forced back down as he sunk into me once again. He continued to grunt and mutter incoherently above me, one hand forcing my head to remain still on the top of the workbench the other gripping my hip in a hold strong enough to ensure his hand was imprinted on my skin. Never once did he let up and he never stopped until he was finished; it was only after he found his release that I was given mine.

"Get your fucking clothes back on, got work to do."

I had just finished fastening the button to my jeans when he called me over. She was finally starting to regain consciousness from the strangulation she had previously endured when the steel of the blade was flashed in front of her face. Instantly her sobs and pleas for mercy began. As I approached and stood next to him he grasped my wrist tightly and forced the handle of the knife into my hand.

"You want your chance, show me you want it." He whispered, keeping his eyes trained on our victim.

Her eyes went wide at the realization that there was no getting out of this alive. She fought against her chains but got nowhere fast. Holding the knife in front of her face I made two small cuts, one on each cheek; she bit her tongue to force back the scream that threatened to make its way to the surface. Next a shallow slice down the length of her arm, just enough to cause the blood to make a steady stream towards the ground. An 'x' carved into her stomach, taking care to avoid cutting too deep and lacerating her liver and intestines. Slightly deeper marks were made in her legs but shallow enough to elude the femoral arteries…precision to ensure pain but never deep enough to kill straight away.

With each cut and slice she forced back the screams as much as she could until finally the cut to her Achilles' tendon on her right foot brought the elusive sound to our ears. I could almost feel the tendon curling in on itself as the individual teeth of the serrations tore through her flesh. Glancing over my shoulder I searched for Mac hoping that what he saw so far garnered his approval.

"Show me, finish this goddamn whore off."

His approval gained I turned back to finish the job. Her pleas and cries for mercy continued. The carefully placed cuts were opened further; the lines etched into her stomach were deepened until the tip of the blade finally penetrated through all of the muscle and fat layers, allowing her intestines to spill out onto the floor. Her screams carried out into the night as the bloodletting continued until finally they began to settle down into whimpers begging for the end to come. Her femoral arteries in both legs that had been pouring blood were now falling away into smaller streams on the floor of the caves, painting the sands a bright red.

Just before I saw the light leave her eyes I plunged the knife between her breasts, her breathing coming in short, labored bursts until finally the brown color in her eyes disappeared into the blackness of her dilated pupils. Her body gave a few final involuntarily jerks as her breathing ceased altogether.

There he stood with a wolfish grin spread across his face as I turned back to face him, waiting to hear his final assessment of my work, hoping this would be enough to prove to him that I'm capable of handling my own.

"Get this fucking messed cleaned up, gotta get rid of this before it stinks the whole goddamn place up. Told ya before you want your shot you prove it, that includes getting rid of this piece of trash."

Taking the knife from my hand he returned to the other room with a mask in hand to start work on another order. Shaking my head I walked over to the workbench and took the neatly folded piece of tarp from the crate; unfolding it I placed it under the body where it still dripped with blood not yet cold and separating. Walking around to the wall I grasped the chain and lowered her to the ground, letting her drop with a thud onto the plastic. Pulling the keys from pocket I un-cuffed her hands from their bindings, watching as her skin dimmed from a healthy sun kissed glow to a blueish-gray, her lips beginning to turn purple, and the warmth of her flesh turn cold.

Once she was on the tarp I walked back to the crate in search of the rope needed to tie off the ends and to check that the lighter fluid and matches were in there as well. Mac always did make this look too easy; just rolling them up in a tarp like a burrito and tying the ends off before hefting the package over his shoulder and strolling out the same way he came in. It was a much more laborious task than I initially anticipated it to be, but the job was done nonetheless without complaint.

"Wanna help me get this thing out of here?"

"The blood on the ground?"

"I'll get it cleaned up as soon as you help me get it loaded into the truck."

He sighed heavily as he ripped the mask from his face, blowing out the flames of the burners he was using on his latest batch he turned to face me, a hint of a smile gracing his features as he strode past me. I turned and watched him pick the tarp up like it weighed nothing and leave the sanctity of the caves. Grabbing the shop vac he kept under the workbench I plugged it into the extension cord and set to work on getting the blood cleaned up off the sandy floor, thankful that the clean-up had not been too much of a challenge.

Mac returned a short time later to inspect the room, ensuring everything was neatly tucked away where it was supposed to be for the next time. He nodded his head in approval after careful scrutiny; waving a booted shoe over the ground to check for any stray blood droplets, checking to make sure all of his tools were back in their proper place.

"Think you just got your wish. I'm picking out the next one and we'll play by your rules. Let's burn this bitch and go home, nowhere near finished with your ass yet."


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: I really have no idea where I'm going with this just yet but decided to expand on this. Hopefully it lives up to some of the other Red Canyon stories here and hopefully my interpretation of Mac is equally as well written. Drop a line or two on your way out and let me know what you think._

 **Chapter 2**

Some may liken it to Stockholm Syndrome: the victim sympathizing with their captor, in some cases developing feelings of affection towards them for allowing the victim small acts of "kindness" such as allowing them to small bits of food, water, bathroom privileges…

But with Mac it's never about "kindness." Matter of fact there's not a kind bone in his body, unless you count one (but that's really not a bone, is it?)

With Mac it's a game of how long can you survive being raped, tortured, and drugged before he gets bored and kills you. The only reason he let me live was because I found a more than suitable replacement to take my place after I made my escape. His name isn't of any great importance, the only thing I cared about was getting back at that son of a bitch for laying hands on me.

But allow me to start from the beginning.

I remember vividly that it was mid-summer, probably sometime in July and it was high noon when I had wandered out into the Luna Mesa. Sure the canyons were bound to draw in tourists but usually they'd only stay for a day or two then move on to their next destination. Walter, some old man I was talking to, had warned to stay on the paths and if I had encountered any trouble to let him know.

"The cops around here aren't too bright."

I wasn't sure if he meant that cops around here are complete morons or if they were all mentally challenged like the deputy I had encountered just before entering the Luna Mesa. Walter had also warned about people suddenly disappearing if they failed to stay on the beaten path. He had heard reports from those lucky enough to make it back alive that they felt like someone or something was watching them. Some witness stories included seeing a maniac wielding a knife and wearing a gas mask to conceal their true identity.

Somehow I couldn't stop the laugh that surfaced, Walter was just as cracked in the head as the rest of the locals. Those that trickled into the Luna Mesa as I waited for a piss warm beer to be served spun tales similar to Walter's. The bar was abuzz with chatter trying to scare myself and the few other tourists that were in town, trying to steer us away from the canyons and to just get the hell out of town the next day. Almost everyone that afternoon heeded their advice and agreed to leave in the morning after a night's rest.

But as the locals stood around trying to convince everyone to get out the bar seemed to grow eerily quiet until only the jukebox near the doors was the only thing that kept the place from going completely silent. Like everyone else my eyes flitted to the door to find the source of the stillness. There he stood in the doorway, a sneer on his lips and a fire in his eyes; it was clear that he hated tourists being here.

"Whiskey!"

The only word he shouted before the bar sprang back to life. The sun was just beginning to set when Walter approached the other end of the bar, pulling a glass and a bottle from underneath. The light of the setting sun bouncing off the glass; a reflection of rainbows was the only bit of happiness the bar evoked. This tall stranger though snubbed that out as he surveyed the place, he held his head high as if he were the only person who mattered; like he owned the place. Most everyone somehow managed to steer clear of this stranger except a barfly or two.

It was as Walter presented me a platter of greasy fries and slime sandwiched between two buns that I felt a pair of eyes burning into me. Glancing up from the slop I found him peering at me from the other side of the bar. He moved swiftly from his stool, slithering through the crowds with one thing on his mind. In one hand was the whiskey bottle, in the other a pair of shot glasses, though where the second glass came from I couldn't be sure; the beer I was sipping went crashing to the floor in one fluid motion as he swept his arm over the bar top to make room for what he wanted.

He said not a word as he poured the two shots, picking up the glass that was in front of me when it was full I slammed the cool amber liquid back, feeling that delicious burn as it worked its way down. Closing my eyes I relished in the taste that I had missed, the woodsy smell that seemed to recall a time when I could relax a little around a fire. Opening my eyes I was presented with another full shot and a dangerous smile that played behind his blue orbs.

"Under normal circumstances I'd be asking for a name if I'm drinking whiskey with a stranger, but I've got a feeling nothing about you or this place is normal." Slinging back the second shot I placed the glass back on the bar and waited to see what he'd do.

"Never seen you around here before, would remember a pair of tits like that."

"Funny, you strike me as more of an ass man. Just got in town this morning." I lied.

"You know what's good for ya you'll take Walter's advice and get out town like everyone else."

"But if I was like everyone else I'd be turning in for the night and keeping a close eye on everyone I brought with me instead of keeping an eye out for people like you."

"Like me?" he questioned, bringing the bottle to his lips and tipping his head back.

"You reek of danger and ooze confidence, people are scared of you," I surmised giving him a once over.

He offered the bottle that he kept a tight grip on; my fingers wrapped around the neck just under his but he made sure that at least one finger on his hand brushed against mine. As I brought the bottle to my lips I made sure to keep an eye on him when my head fell back. I watched as he tentatively brought his hand out, the feel of his fingers curling around my neck, the muscles in each of those digits contracting and relaxing before he took the bottle away.

"You ain't scared?"

"What reason do I have to be scared of you? You think the dried blood under your nails is enough? Or perhaps the murderous glare in your eyes? I have more reason to be scared of someone else than I do of you."

Just as he opened his mouth to say something the doors of the bar swung open and a thunderous voice silenced the noisy atmosphere. The people on the floor cleared a path at his command, much like how Moses parted the Red Sea. I carefully eyed Walter as he reached under the bar for something, though what it was I couldn't tell.

"You have some competition." I muttered before I was roughly pulled from my bar stool and dragged out of the establishment.

The car door slammed shut around me and just briefly the overhead light came on then was out again as the driver side door opened and shut. I looked at him for a moment before the familiar sting of his hand across my face had the copper taste of blood in my mouth. Another slap and the cold sensation of glass was against my temple as my head bounced off the window.

"The fuck were you thinking wandering off again? How many times I gotta tell ya to keep your ass put? You trying to get us both locked up? Swear to fucking God you don't answer me when I talk to ya lil girl you're gonna get it when we get back to the house."

My cheeks started to swell as I bit back the tears that threatened to fall; he'd beat me even harder if he saw even one start a path down my face. Another slap, or worse stab, for each one he saw; a kick to the ribs for each time I cried out, every 'I'm sorry' earned a choking, and every 'please stop' or something similar meant my head was plunged under the water's surface until the bubbles came to a near end.

"Just wanted to get out of the house for a little bit, see what this town had to offer. I wasn't gonna do anything; the rules don't say anything about having a drink with a stranger or small talk. Didn't even ge-"

I was cut off as he leaned over into the passenger side seat and wrapped his hands around my neck, my air supply cutoff as I fought against him. One hand eased up just enough to slap me as something shone in the light of the lamp over the parking lot. Both hands came back to my throat until finally everything around me grew black and I heard the familiar crunching as he attempted to crush my windpipe. All at once a rush of air entered my lungs and I lurched forward in a coughing fit, one hand propping myself against the dash and the other carefully massaging my neck in an attempt to ward off the numbness that had begun to set in.

"Next time you mouth off to me will be your last."

'That's what you said last time,' I thought to myself as I leaned back in my seat. As the car came to life I looked out the window and caught sight of a cherry red glow from a cigarette and the stranger I was drinking with leaning against a post.

The moment we were back at the house and the engine was shut off my nightmare began all over again. Leaving the house this afternoon probably wasn't the smartest thing to do when he granted me a small piece of freedom but I hadn't seen daylight or breathed in any fresh air in 43 days. I was pulled through the house like a child dragging their favorite toy around until we finally reached the top of the stairs that led to the basement. He forced the door open and shoved me forward into the darkness. I couldn't stop the scream that escaped as I tumbled down the stairs; my shoulder hit the banister, my foot catching in the space somewhere between the steps breaking my fall along with my ankle. His heavy footfalls on the steps echoed loudly until I could feel him hovering over me. My hair was yanked, more than a few strands being pulled from my head and I was tossed down the stairs the rest of the way, landing on my stomach.

"You know I hate doing that to you but you leave me no other choice. You have to learn to behave and you have to learn that bad girls are going to get punished."

I heard the buckle from his belt come loose and instantly tensed up as I heard the familiar crack of the leather, his hand pulled my shirt up over my head and my bra was unclasped. All at once metal and leather came snapping to life against my back until finally I could feel the blood trickling down my spine, but he didn't stop until he was satisfied that I had learned my lesson about leaving the house.

To ensure the lesson had stuck, my jeans were unbuttoned and stripped away along with my underwear leaving me completely naked on the blood soaked dirt floor of the basement. But my humiliation didn't stop there, I listened intently as the zipper of his pants sang along its tracks, his hands roughly gripped my hips as he pulled the lower half of my body into position. Once again I cried out as he buried himself balls deep inside me; another slap along my back with the belt served as a warning if I did that again.

His hips snapped against mine, his voice crooning in my ear about how tight I always was for him. The belt slipped from his hand as he reached under me to play with my nipple. I couldn't help but cringe as my body began to betray me, the pain that emitted from my nipple being pinched sending messages to brain that it was a pleasurable experience. All at once he stopped and I was crudely put on my back, loose dirt dug into my flesh as he sunk himself in once more. His deep, heavy pants in my ear left a shudder going through me. Rather than announcing that he was cumming he bit down on my neck and snuck a hand down to my clit, forcing my orgasm to meet his.

I was never allowed to touch myself or him when we had sex. That was one of the rules. He would say whether or not I got to finish and if he allowed it, it had to be done at the same time as him.

"Now, be a good girl and get back in your cage. If you promise to be good, maybe, just maybe, I'll let you eat breakfast in the morning."

He kissed the side of my face and slowly I crawled out from under him, making my way to the cage I called my home; broken ankle, dislocated shoulder, and all. Maybe if he was feeling merciful he'd put my shoulder back in place in the morning and set my ankle to prevent it from healing wrong.

"Good night my pet."

"Good night James."

His feet ascended the stairs and quietly the door shut behind him, plunging me in complete darkness. In the distance a coyote howled and a dog barked in response. Curtains blacked out the windows of the basement, forbidding any light from entering the space, depriving me of any sense of time. I sat in the dirt feeling the blood on my back dry and cake, my face lay against the cold, emotionless metal of the bars hoping that it would help bring down some of swelling in my body. Just as I was ready to succumb to sleep a knock on the front door had me on alert. James probably invited a few of his acquaintances from a few towns over to watch as he humiliated me further, showing off how "well trained" I am.

I could pick out James' voice with no problem but the other two voices were too low to make out. Without warning the light came on in the basement and the door opened. Three forms stood in the doorway and peered down on me in judgment and I was forced to bask in my shame. Just as quickly as it happened the light switched off but their forms remained in the door. The last thing I saw before was I enveloped by complete darkness was the cherry red light of a cigarette.


	3. Chapter 3

_Happy New Year's! Everyone please be safe and don't drink n drive if you do go out. Leave some love on the way out, let me know what you think so far._

 **Chapter 3**

I awoke to the sound of a dog barking wildly in the distance and its owner screaming at it to shut the fuck up. The basement was still just as dark as what it was when I was thrown down the stairs a few hours earlier; with the windows being blacked out it was difficult to tell whether it was day or night. James always made sure that not even the thinnest stream of light could penetrate the windows. Settling my head back into my pillow of dirt and crusty blood I tried to sleep off the soreness that started to work its way back into my body.

Visions of freedom worked their way into my dreams; more like memories of life before James. Memories of walking in the daylight, memories of the sun warming my face, of fresh cut grass after a summer rain.

But I can never have that again.

James made sure of that.

"Have you been behaving yourself?"

I was jarred from my sleep when the dim lights switched on from upstairs and James' voice echoed off the top stair. His feet came down the stairs with purpose and intent, when he reached the bottom step he crouched down in front of my cage to make a quick assessment of my situation; tilting his head from side to side until he finally made up his mind. His hand reached out for the padlock, yanking on it to ensure the mechanisms were still in place and had not been tampered with.

"You know I hate hurting you like that but I told you not to leave the house; matter of fact, you _promised_ you wouldn't go outside if I let you upstairs for the day. And what did you do? You openly defied me! Not only did you leave the house but you walked down to the bar and I find you bellied up to the bar with that fucking meth head throwing back shots!" His anger was rolling off him as he continued on. "I really should leave you down here like this and let your foot heal the way it is and leave your shoulder all fucked up but you caught me at a generous time. Get over here."

He stood and fished the keys from his pocket and bent down to unlock my prison. When the door opened and he stepped back, I crawled painfully slow towards the exit with the knowledge that he may very quickly change his mind and slam the door shut in my face as a cruel joke to make me suffer even more. It wouldn't be the first time he broke something and left it to heal wrong as a punishment. The only reason my hand got fixed was because James gave me a dose of heroin and a massive amount of meth that caused my heart to stop. In a panic he called for an ambulance and I was revived in route to the hospital. I was placed on a detox program and once I was deemed clean a doctor came in and surgically re-broke my hand so it could be fixed properly.

Once I cleared the door of my cell I sat on the dirt floor with my legs crossed waiting in silence for whatever came next. James knelt next to me but his clothing never touched the ground; his fingers danced around my shoulder and with a bit of manipulation my shoulder was back in its proper place once more. Although it would remain sore for the next several hours it was nice that I had full range of motion in both arms again.

Honestly, sleeping on my right side hurt and being on my stomach was even more uncomfortable.

"Make one sound and I'll break your other foot after I'm done fixing this one."

James always delivered on his promises; they were never empty threats or just words. If James said he was going to do something he meant it.

Gingerly he took my left ankle in his hands and snapped it around a bit until it felt like it was in its proper position once more. I fought desperately to not make a sound or whimper as the pain shot straight through me, thankfully he allowed me to bite down on my knuckle in an attempt to silence myself. He watched my face intently for any noise that threatened to come through but when none came he set to work on finishing the splint.

When the splint was securely fastened he stood to his full height, walked around me for a few seconds and pressed a booted foot into the back of my head, sending me face first into the dirt. His hand on my back, tracing the outlines of the belt marks and welts was beyond painful (especially the ones that sat directly on my spine). Again I remained quiet because I knew at any second that belt could come off and create more marks.

" _We_ are taking a shower, get your ugly ass up them stairs." He demanded, spitting on my face as he yanked me up by my hair.

I limped up the stairs, using my arm to shield my eyes from the burning light of day that poured in from the kitchen window. Usually the only time I was allowed to shower upstairs was if James intended on taking me somewhere; usually it meant that I was meant to be someone's sex toy for a few hours as an exchange for the meth he needed to keep himself high and to keep me subdued during his intense sessions of masochistic sex.

By the time I reached the bathroom the shower was already running and a good amount of steam had built up on the mirror. A pair of jeans and a t-shirt were sitting on the toilet lid, underneath were a pair of mismatched towels (one red, the other green). Once the door to the bathroom was shut James began undressing himself, letting his clothes fall wherever they landed then threw back the shower curtain to climb in. He extended his hand out allowing me entry but my only job was to make sure that he was squeaky clean; his hair had to be washed free of all the grease that built up during the week, his skin had to smell like Irish Spring soap, and the scabs from his track marks had to be scrubbed raw otherwise he'd spend hours picking away at them.

As for me, once James was clean, the shower stopped and the tub was filled with just enough water for me to clean myself. I was given just enough shampoo and conditioner to clean my hair and just enough soap to get the dirt off my skin. James knelt by the tub with a pitcher of water to wash the suds from my hair and a washcloth to clean the crusted blood from my back, but he never cared if the sores opened up and bled again while I was being cleaned up.

"You're damn lucky I decided not to kill you last night; the asshole you were with happens to be our manufacturer and the prick behind the bar is our dealer. You're gonna go in there, fuck the maker for a few hours and come back with a few kilos, got it? You'll do what he says, when he says. He made it perfectly clear to me last night when he stopped by he had no qualms about slitting your throat if you fuck up, you understand me? I'm just about finished with your training and I don't wanna start over with a fresh bitch, got it?"

"Yes sir." I mumbled quietly as James bent over the edge of the tub to pull the plunger, allowing the water to drain out.

I hate when he refers to these people as _our_ ; before James I never touched drugs, hell I never even smoked pot. Sure I could drink an Irishman under the table but when it came to drugs, that was where I drew the line. Climbing out of the tub I grabbed the red towel off the toilet and used it to wrap my hair and the green to dry myself off. However James was being impatient this morning and had a schedule to adhere to; he ripped the towel from my body and tugged the shirt over my head, pulling my arms through the holes, he pushed me onto the toilet and slid the jeans onto my legs, practically throwing me over his shoulder as he pulled them over my hips.

"Mac's expecting us at 10 am, sharp. He doesn't fuck around and always delivers _everything_ on time, the least we can do is get there when he says otherwise it'll be both our heads on a pike. Get your hair out of that fucking towel and wait for me out in the car."

I padded out of the bathroom as soon as James opened the door, bare feet, wet hair, and all to sit silently in the car until he emerged freshly dressed. His hair was slicked back and shone brightly as the sun bounced off the massive amount of gel that he used. As he approached the car with key in hand he was talking with someone on the phone about something.

"… I'm dropping my little pet off at that psycho's house and picking up the product now. I don't fucking care what you're doing or who's sucking your tiny cock, meet me at the drop off location like we agreed or I'll make sure you wake up with your own dick up your ass, got me?" He slammed his phone shut, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. "You're my good girl, aren't you? A defiant little shit sometimes, but you're still my good girl, huh?"

I fought the shudder that threatened to manifest as James petted the side of my face, brushing my hair back behind my ear. He offered me a soft smile then placed the key in the ignition and turned the engine over. Our drive was quiet except for the radio that played some old forgotten song; as we wound through the red dirt roads the barking of the same maniacal dog I heard last night and early this morning was heard once more, growing louder and crazier the closer we got to our destination.

James shut the car off when we arrived; the house was pretty run down and a generator sat quietly on the side. The dog was in a full-on rage, digging and pawing frantically inside its enclosure trying to escape.

"Wait here while I go get him."

Glancing at the clock on the dash it read 10:00 am exactly. James climbed out of the car and walked around the front towards the door, never bothering to knock but just walking right in like it was a second home. Moments later James came bursting through the door cursing up a storm and "Mac" hot on heels shouting just as loudly. The car door came flying open and I was pulled from the passenger seat, thrown to the ground in front of this strange man. In an attempt to show dominance, James stood on my back, his boots digging into the fresh wounds I received the night before.

"…I fucking told you last night she wouldn't put up a fight, see? All she does is fucking lays there and takes it! What more could you fucking want?"

"And I fucking told ya last night ya lil prick that I like to see 'em put a fucking struggle! If I wanted complacency I'd fuck 'em up myself!"

An audible growly came from James and in his frustration he stepped down off my back and lifted me from the ground by my hair, nearly sending me into the (still) open door of the car as he flung me backwards.

"Did I say you could take your bitch back? You wanted your supply you got it, but this one stays with me until I say otherwise. You want her back we do it on _my_ terms and _only_ when _I'm_ through with her."

Once more I was roughly grabbed but with my hair in my face I couldn't make out who was winning this physical battle of tug o' war that I was caught in. The door of the car slammed shut followed by the driver's side door opening and closing; tires spun out in the dirt and I caught a glimpse of the taillights disappearing around the corner. My new "master" had a firm grip on my arm and huffed in irritation once James was out of sight.

"Get in the house."

I nodded solemnly and limped towards the house, reaching for the screen door to pull it open but found it was already being held for me when I glanced over my shoulder. Once inside I stood in a corner waiting for whatever came next.

"Ya gonna sit or are ya just gonna stand there like some kid? Ya had an awful lot to say last night and not a peep out of ya now?"

"James never lets me sit on the furniture, when I'm upstairs I have to stand in the corner."

"Ya got a name?"

"Pet, lil girl. James said women should never be allowed to have names, 'if they have names they go around thinking they have power.' I shouldn't have been drinking with you last night-"

"What was your name before you hooked up with that asshole?"

"I don't remember. James put me in the hospital a long time ago and when I came too I had a bad case of amnesia. To this day I still don't remember my name or what caused me wind up in the hospital in the first place."

"Usually ain't a generous person but ya look like you could use a decent meal. When was the last time you ate anything?"

"The burger I was going to eat last night would've been my first real bit of food in a little over a month." I confessed, hanging my head down in shame after feeling the hunger pains once again. "Why-" before I could get my question out he disappeared into the kitchen, rooted around in the fridge for a second then came back with a container in hand.

"Walter bagged this slop up last night after you were hauled outta there. Told me that prick was the one I was supposed to be dealing with today. Me and Walter rarely see eye to eye on anything but we did agree last night you were gonna stay here for a bit. Saw the marks on your back; I ain't a nice person, far from it-"

"Yet you're offering me food?" I asked confused, unsure of what may happen to me while I was in this madhouse.

"You were different last night, last night you said I had competition. If you meant that prick, he ain't shit, these are _my_ canyons and what _I_ say goes."

"Last night I overstepped my boundaries, last night I broke the rules and paid for it. But it was worth it; locked in a basement for more than a month and not being able to see the sun or feel the warmth of its rays on my face…I got carried away and was hoping to be back long before James knew I was gone. But why am I telling you this? Being here is supposed to be part of my punishment for last night; I think James is half expecting you to kill me so he can go out and find a new pet to mold."

"I kill for shits and giggles; I kill when _I_ feel like it. I make them suffer for a little while before I slit their fucking throats; I wait until they're begging for death. Sometimes I feel like raping 'em, sometimes I feel like gutting the fuckers, occasionally I'll get a wild hair up my ass and do something that's never been done before."

"So you're going to kill me too?"

"Told that douchebag that you're mine until I say otherwise and I meant it. You do what I say, when I say and we got no issue. You go around doing anything you fucking please and it'll be the last fucking thing you do, understand? Get your ass in the bedroom and be ready by the time I get in there."

I nodded and kept my gaze on the floor, as I tried to move past him he grabbed my arm and stopped me in my tracks.

"Name's Mac, better not forget it either, you'll be screaming it before ya know it."

"Why are you doing this? Making me stay here? Letting me walk around the house? Giving me freedoms?"

"You're just like me, just don't know it yet. Get goin."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: It's been a while since this was last updated but I hit a bit of a block that needed to get worked out. Now that one story has been completed I can shift my focus to this one and hopefully delve into some dark places moving forward. My hope is that these dark places will start to emerge in the next chapter so stay tuned._

 **Chapter 4**

Mac was roughly shoving his feet back into his boots as he left me to lie on the mattress, handcuffed to the bedpost. Smoke from his cigarette drifted towards the yellowed ceiling and when he stood to his full height he turned to me with a murderous look in his eyes, the cigarette hanging limp between his lips, the handcuff key jangled against the keyring he had wrapped around his finger.

"Gotta take a piss ya better do it now," he started reaching over to release me from my binding, "get your ass back in here when you're done. And don't _even_ think about making a run for that door neither!"

I was already in the hallway as he shouted the last part. I'd be insane to think about 'making a run for that door', as he put it. Matter of fact if I wasn't as scared as I am I'd still be paralyzed to the bed but I really had to pee. Once the toilet was flushed and my hands were scrubbed raw I emerged from the bathroom to find Mac standing in front of the door with his arms folded across his chest.

"Thought for sure you'd try to leave through the window in there."

"I have my moments of stupid but I'm not stupid enough to do something like leave especially with the looks that you've been given me."

"What look is that?" Stepping away from the door Mac pointed towards the bedroom.

"The one that says you'll rip my head clean off my shoulders." Leaving the confines of the bathroom I limped back to the bedroom. "Can I ask you something?"

When I got no response I dared to look over my shoulder and was greeted with a hand being pressed between my shoulders, pushing me onto the bed.

"What?"

"You said I was just like you but didn't know it yet, what did you mean by that?"

He nearly barked out a laugh as I shrunk into the mattress. Once I was back on the side of the bed where the handcuffs were still waiting with open jaws I was shackled once more. "Don't think I didn't see that look you had when that asshole slung ya into the car door this morning or the one you were hiding when your head bounced off the dash last night. You want him dead and you want to make him suffer." His voice low as he smashed his lips against mine, teeth tearing at the flesh until we could both taste the copper of blood on our tongues.

"How'd you know that?" fear more than evident in my voice when Mac finally pulled away.

"Ya got the same look I get when Walter starts pissing me off about his shit not being done on time. Keep your ass on this bed 'til I get back and maybe tonight I'll show you what it means to have a good time."

"You're really just gonna leave me cuffed to this piece of shit bed all day? Fuck, I'd rather be back home inside my cage i-"

Before I could finish my rant Mac's hand flashed out and was wrapped around my throat, the murderous look had returned to his eyes, and a sneer was plastered across his lips. My fingers were desperately clawing against his, trying to pry them free but I think that reaction was just normal human response.

"Was expecting pleas and cries, you just give up?" he snarled when he finally released me from his grip.

"When James isn't beating the holy hell out of me he resorts to chocking; if I make even a peep he'll keep it up until I either pass out or stop breathing all together. Two weeks ago he chocked me out until I stopped breathing, woke up in a hospital bed a few hours later surrounded by doctors and cops wanting to know what happened. They knew but they wanted me to say it out loud…would've gotten it a lot worse when we got home if I said anything. I know the game he's playing and I hate it. One of these days I just wish he'd kill me and let me stay dead."

"Tell ya what, you sure know how to bait people if you want a reaction outta 'em." He muttered after the room fell quiet. "Told ya before I ain't a nice person, but I'll make an exception. I said to keep your ass on this bed 'til I got back, never said I was gonna be gone all day…maybe an hour or two at the most."

"Why make an exception with me? James would never say it out loud but we all know he dropped me off here in the hopes you'd kill me just so that my blood wouldn't be on his hands."

"There's that mouthy lil bitch I met last night," he smirked as he backed away from the bed, "don't like seeing animals play with their food, gotta either kill it or let it go."

"Unless you're a cannibal I don't think I qualify as food."

"Ya ain't but that's the best pussy I had in a while. Just stay here 'til I get back, alright? Once the sun goes down I'll show you what it means to have a good time."

I couldn't help but huff out a laugh at Mac's response. If I'm being honest James has never once put tongue to tail, he could never stand the idea that a woman could get off on being licked. But Mac? Let's just say before Mac I never knew what it meant to be devoured by a man with an appetite for pussy. Sure Mac thoroughly enjoyed watching me deep throat him but when he said it was his turn, I really didn't have the slightest clue what he meant until he had his face between my legs.

"By 'good time' do you mean more of what you did with that talented tongue of yours?"

"Think about it, behave yourself I'll even think about bringing ya back something to eat."

"What if anyone comes around looking for ya?" I hollered after him as he took off down the hallway.

"Stay on the bed."

With that Mac turned on his heel and left, the front door opening and closing, the distinct sound of his truck coming to life as the dog in the yard barked wildly at the tires that kicked up dirt and gravel. Once the truck could no longer be heard traveling down the road, everything around the house fell eerily quiet, including the dog. Sure the wind occasionally picked up and whistled through the sparse trees but other than that…nothing.

I had all the time in the world to do (almost) anything I wanted but I was handcuffed to a bed with strict instructions not to even put a toe on the floor. Mac's threat earlier this morning that he'd kill me rang constantly in my head so I did the only thing I could think to do until he got back.

Sleep.

The last month and a half I'd done nothing but sleep in the dirt in a basement so being in bed with a tattered mattress underneath my battered, aching body was like heaven on earth. I was more than surprised at quickly sleep came to me, the feel of the sun shining through the window warming the blanket at the end of the bed while I kicked my feet around trying to grasp it between my toes until it was finally within the reach of my outstretched fingers. Despite being cuffed to the bed I was thankful that the cuffs didn't completely restrict my movements. As I settled into slumber a faint thought began to take shape that maybe being in Mac's house wouldn't be so bad.

How wrong I was.

The clock on the nightstand read 12:56 just before my eyes shut completely. When I was rudely awakened by a thunderous voice shouting for Mac the clock was reading 1:37. Boots stomped wildly throughout the house until they finally came to halt at the threshold of the bedroom door.

"I leave you here to do as you're told and I come back to find you _sleeping_ in a _bed_?! _You don't belong on the fucking bed!_ "

James crossed over the threshold, hands out in front of him ready to rip me off the mattress. When he did, the handcuffs bit viciously into my wrist, cutting a near perfect circle into my skin, the blood dripping freely onto the cluttered floor and fear started washing over me at the thought of what Mac may do to me if he decided to come home now and find me on the floor instead of the bed. Next thing I knew a sound whipped through the air and came cracking down against the back of my neck, something cold catching in a small cut and ripping it open even further.

His fury was getting the best of him and winded him quickly but it didn't stop him from dropping his belt to beat me with his bare hands. Rage rolled off of him in waves as he continued to pummel away at me; he was so lost in his anger that he never heard the truck pulling up, never heard the front door slam shut or the boots stampeding across the floor. All at once James' weight was lifted from me and the front door opened and quickly closed. Anything that happened after I couldn't fathom as the only thought I had in my head was to try and get back in the bed before Mac got back inside.

Blood in my eyes had my vision blurring and a ringing in my ears had my hearing at a minimum. Hands under my arms had me fearful that everything was going to end where I knelt. Instead what I felt where hands helping me back into the bed, my head carefully propped against the headboard and my wrist coming free of its restraint.

"I did like you said, I stayed in the bed but he came looking for you and found me; he dragged me out, please don't-"

"Told him not to go anywhere near ya when he got here, fucker never listens, does he?" Mac interjected, his boots dropping to the ground just before his feet shuffled along the floor disappearing for a moment then coming back. "Get ya cleaned up a bit then we'll wait for nightfall."

"To do what?"

A cooling sensation washed over the top of my head followed by something rough and scratchy drying the spot. It took a minute or two for my brain to realize that what I was feeling was Mac cleaning the blood from my head and face that had dribbled down into my eyes. My vision somewhat restored, I saw hints of concern written into Mac's features and every once in a while he'd glance over his shoulder to peer out of the window at his truck making sure everything maintained its normal appearance.

"You're finally gonna get yourself free of that asshole. Was hoping I wouldn't have to do that but kinda happy it worked out that way. You ain't gonna be a mouse on the string no more."

"You set me up?" my body gave an involuntary shiver as the cool cloth worked its way around the gaping hole in my neck.

"Could say that. Fucker left without paying, wouldn't answer his phone so I had to find Walter."

"He answered when Walter called and you told him to get his ass back up here?" I surmised as Mac continued to clean the blood away.

"Told him to wait outside until I got back, don't go in the house. Course the stupid son of a bitch don't listen; funny he thought he was coming ta getcha, thought I was done with ya already."

"I hate sounding weak, but please don't leave me like that again, not with maniacs like that running around, not with animals who play with their prey and refuse to kill it."

"Just like me and don't even know it yet." The smirk was evident in his voice as the blood continued to be washed away. "Ya ain't weak for wanting to get away; laying on the ground and just taking it makes ya weak. Saw ya trying to get back up here when I was hauling that piece of shit outta my house."

"Just because we share similar looks when it comes to our want to kill James and Walter, doesn't mean I'm just like you."

"Sun goes down we're going out to the caves; you've known nothing but hurt your whole life, you were made to take your punishment for every rule you broke. There's something buried deep in there that wants out – a beast behind the bruises. Gotta feeling when I put a knife in that hand tonight you'll know what real pleasure is."

"Is that what you want me to see in you? That behind the beast I see before me is someone capable of being gentle and almost kind to the right person? That despite how badly Walter's fucked you up you're capable of more than just murder and drugs?"

"Wasn't born a monster, I was made one; never had a kind or gentle bone in my body. I kill without mercy."

"But yet you make an exception with me. You got James off me, you're wiping away blood. Why do you care what happens to me? I can see a little more clearly how we can be similar but we're not the same."

"Never said we were the same, said you were like me just don't know it yet. Dunno why I care, guess I can't stand to see someone try to be a bigger asshole than me. Beaten on my fair share of women but at least I have the decency to put 'em outta their misery when I'm done with 'em."

"Other than shared looks that could kill how else do you think I'm like you?"

"Guess we'll find out when you wake up. Try and get some sleep, got a long night ahead of us with that one. Gonna find out what your name is before he's dead."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Sorry it's taken soooo long to get this story updated, I had to pull a lot of OT hours last month and it really ate into my writing time. Hopefully that is done and over with for awhile and I can focus a little more on getting this updated a little more regularly. I was hoping for a little more gore factor on this one but it didn't feel right. Let me know your thoughts on the way out :)_

 **Chapter 5**

I was rudely awakened at some ungodly hour; it was pitch black outside and the only sound that reached my ears was the door slamming shut on the truck bed. A dim light flickered in the hallway as the front door wrenched open and slammed shut again, heavy boots stomped along the creaking floors until they finally stopped short of the bedroom. Turning my head I found a large shadow standing in the doorway, the cherry glow from a cigarette illuminating the darkness just a little.

"Get'cha ass up, got work to do."

Groaning, I rolled my bruised and battered body off the mattress to find the remnants of my clothes. My jeans were strewed about the dresser and my shirt was tossed to the other side of the room. My bra and underwear were nowhere to be found but I had a vague idea of where they may have ended up. Once I was dressed, I emerged from the bedroom to find Mac bounding up the stairs with something tucked under his arm; before I had a chance to question what it was I was being pushed towards the door with instructions to get in the truck and don't say a fucking word.

I did as I was told and kept my mouth shut, every now and then a muffled cry could be heard from the back of the truck. The first time I heard it, I hazarded a glance and found James hogtied, his eyes held a mix of anger and something I couldn't quite put my finger on; almost a pleading look but Mac quickly drew my attention back to the road.

"Fucker's gonna get in your head you look back there again."

"Where we going?"

"Don't worry about it, we get there you do what I say if you wanna walk outta there alive, understand?"

I mumbled a quick yes then turned my attention to the road, watching as the faded lines painted on the side whizzed by. The paint came to an abrupt end as we pulled off the asphalt and on to a dirt trail. An almost evil laugh escaped from Mac as he elated in the fact that James was in the back bouncing around much like my head did the night before. We slowed to a crawl before stopping, the headlights pointing into the belly of a blacked out cave.

"Wait in the truck, keep the doors locked," he paused momentarily reaching across the seat to get into the glovebox, "shoot anyone that's not me, got it?" Mac dropped a gun in my lap and quickly got out of the truck, locking his side before slamming the door shut.

I did as instructed, locking the door on my side and watched the back window as he dropped the tailgate and hauled James out. There was a sudden outburst from Mac that had me jumping in my seat but the disturbance only grew from there. Mac appeared seemingly out of nowhere with James in front of him, his bruised face pressed against the glass of the passenger door for me to see.

"Stay in the fucking truck!"

I watched as the two of them disappeared into the caves wondering silently who was the more evil of the pair. James was always the type that enjoyed showing his dominance through physicality; Mac on the other didn't need to show brute force to show he was in charge. His voice alone was enough to elicit fear regardless of who you are. James had the body of a god whereas Mac…not so much but that romp in the sheets earlier today proved that he didn't need to have rippling muscles to be intimidating.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed before Mac finally came back outside but I'm guessing it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes; motioning for me to step out I caught a small glimpse of fresh blood on his knuckles.

"Don't ask."

Confusion plagued my mind at his words but I kept quiet, following him into the darkness. A small light radiated out the further into the caves we walked; when we finally reached our intended destination I found James strung up by his wrists to a wall on my left, a myriad of tubing, burners, and other things I haven't seen outside of a chemistry lab in front of me, and a workbench with a gas mask thrown on the top to my right.

"Sit."

I was pushed towards a stool that I failed to notice peeking out from under the workbench; it was seated directly in front of James, almost like Mac wanted me to face my demon head on. Setting the gun next to the gas mask I took a seat as instructed and waited.

The light that illuminated James' face showed a thin stream of blood working its way down the side of his face, his eyes were blackened, and a small sense of satisfaction was taking over to see him in very much the same state I have found myself in on more than one occasion. A painful groan escaped from James as Mac's fists met his face, when he finally took a moment to pause he strode across the room to where I was seated. Grabbing my face in both of his large hands, Mac shoved his tongue down my throat. It was over just as quickly as it began.

"Think it's time you finally got some answers, don't ya think?" Looking past my shoulder Mac spotted the gun and pressed it back into my hands, "you're gonna need it later."

Stalking back towards James I was made to watch the scene unfold before me; between beating the son of a bitch with his fists and stealing a few minutes every now and then smothering me in what could be perceived as affection (if having part of your face gnawed on can be called affection). As the minutes and hours of questioning and beatings dragged on James started to look less like a person and more like a blob of flesh covered in blood.

"Only gonna ask one more time, what's her fucking name?!" this time the fist wasn't bare. Mac was growing tired of the charade and finally started to resort to more violent means of getting answers. A large knife slipped from the holster on his waist, finding its mark in James' leg.

His screams echoed off the walls and a sick satisfaction began to bubble from deep within. His cries became music to my ears, his shrieks were a melody that were playing a long forgotten song, the walls of the cave were the perfect shape for them to reverberate off of as the tune carried on into the night.

Yet in spite of receiving the beating of a life time and a single stab wound to the leg James still refused to give up the one piece of information Mac wanted most of all. In the hours that I had spent sitting stock still on the stool I was learning from Mac methods of a madman on torture. And in all the years I had spent with James I knew which buttons to press if I wanted him to talk.

"Mac," I tentatively called out but was met with a murderous glare when his head whipped around, "could I try?"

He carefully stalked his way back to the workbench where I had remained the last few hours. He never blinked, never said a word, he only grabbed the back of my neck and planted another biting, bruising kiss on my lips as he slipped the handle of the knife into my hand. When we had parted the added pressure of Mac's hand on my neck increased, pushing me from my stool towards where James was still plastered to the wall.

As I made my approach I glanced behind my shoulder to find Mac leaning against the surface of the workbench giving me an encouraging nod. Turning my attention back to James he began to whimper, even plead, the closer I got. Only a few inches separated us, Mac's glare burned through me keeping a careful eye on James even though there wasn't anything he could do unless I decided to unchain him from the wall.

It wasn't gonna happen.

"What happened to me? What did you do to me all those years ago? Why all the secrets, the hiding? Who am I, James?"

His whimpers, cries, and pleas suddenly stopped, his eyes turning to steel, and the tell-tale sound of hocking filled the room. It was over before Mac's stool hit the ground. The son of a bitch spitting in my face again, just like he did this morning.

"You ain't gotta do nothing, gimme the knife." Mac's voice quietly filled my ear as I wiped the saliva from my eye.

"James, what happened to me?" this time I rammed the knife into his arm until it hit rock on the other side.

Once more his screams filled the caves and I thought I heard Mac singing praises in my ear over the echoes.

"I was paid a hundred grand to kidnap you and bring out into the desert where no one would ever think to find you. The guy you were before, his dad thought you were a piece of common trash, not good enough for his little rich kid and paid me off to get rid of ya. Had me suffocate and beat ya to within in an inch of your life. The fact you lived and ended up with amnesia was nothing short of dumb luck."

Removing the knife from his arm I watched in strange fascination as the blood trickled down like a river, mulling over what I was being told in the hopes that something would ring a bell but I couldn't recall a single thing.

"What did you do to me all those years ago?"

"Fuck you bitch, you already got your answers."

Raising the knife again I let it plunge into the leg that Mac left unmarked, feeling the tip hit the bone underneath the layers of muscle, tissue, and fat. A dark chuckle escaped Mac as James began screaming wildly into the night once more. When his laughter subsided I could his lips moving across my neck and his hands on my hips, pressing himself into me.

"At first it was supposed to be just a kidnapping, rough ya up a bit then send ya on your merry way. Daddy Warbucks said he paid the cops off so they'd stop snooping around, told your parents they found your body burned beyond recognition and closed the case. With the cops and your family no longer looking for ya I was free to do anything I wanted. Every time we moved around I had floating on cloud 9 with so many drugs you never knew that you were being gang raped by anyone who could get it up. We kept you out of it for days at a time. They'd tell me how tight that pussy was and I finally had to taste it for myself. Gave ya a bit too much the first time I had ya and had to call an ambulance. They got your heart going again and after that, when you got released, we moved again."

A low growl escaped from Mac as he slowly came to realize that James was far worse than he was. Mac made it clear to me earlier that he had no problem whatsoever admitting that he was a demonized asshole and he had the decency to kill his victims when he was done with them. But James continued to play with his toys, letting their misery drag on and on. The drugs he pushed into me were more than enough that they did kill me more than once and each time I died someone at some unknown hospital was able to bring me back just so I could live long enough for it to happen again.

"Why all the secrets, the hiding?"

I was quick to learn that if I wanted answers James needed something more than a fist to the face before he started talking. Wriggling the knife free from his leg I let it plunge forward into his other arm but this time the blood flowed more freely.

"Hit an artery, try to avoid those next time." Mac's voice whispered in my ear but I picked up on the trace amount of pride that laced his gruff tones.

"Didn't want you finding your way back home, didn't wanna risk you being spotted by your family or anyone that may have known you. Couldn't risk you all of the sudden getting your memory back. Your parents didn't buy into the bullshit they were being fed; they went to the state and filed a missing person report, they put your face on the news…it went national. There were a lot of close calls. FBI actually came knocking on the door once."

My anger was starting to come to a boil the longer James spoke. All of this because one guy's father didn't think I was good enough for his kid? Regardless of how the rest of tonight plays out I'm going back to find my family to at least let them know I'm okay and give them a way to stay in contact with me, even if I decide to stay out here.

Wrenching the knife from his other arm I prepared myself for the final question, the one that I've been asking myself for years, the one Mac was wanting answered all night.

"Who am I? What's my name?"

He shook his head defiantly but from behind I heard the hammer click back on the gun and saw the barrel appear from over my shoulder. It was being pointed straight at James' chest, right at his heart. Mac was ready to end this game before I had my answer but I wasn't ready for this to end just yet.

"You do that and you'll never get your answers."

"Fuck you, I run this shithole town, I get my answers one way or another."

Having made up my mind I plunged the knife forward, not caring in the least where it landed. A strangled cry erupted in the room followed by a single gunshot that left my ears ringing. When I was finally able to focus again James remained chained to the wall but this time he was gasping for air, blood propelling from a hole in his throat and more still pooled down the front of his shirt from where the knife made its mark. The full gravity of the situation hit me when I saw the knife moving side to side…it was moving as his heart continued to beat inside of his chest.

"Her fucking name." the hammer drew back again, the barrel pressed to the center of James' skull.

"A…A…Abbie."

It was all he managed to croak out before the second shot rang out, finding its mark and exiting through the back of his head. Blood and brain matter were sprayed across the wall of the cave; Mac appeared in my peripheral, droplets were smeared across his face causing the blue of his eyes to stand out even more.

"Told ya you were like me."


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: It's been a while since I've updated this and for that I apologize, a lot has been happening since I last posted and I needed to get my head together before I could work on this any further. My hope is to have this completed in another chapter (maybe two). Anyway, let me know what you think on your way out._

 **Chapter 6**

It seems like a lifetime ago when I finally learned what my name was but neither Mac nor I were able to find confirmation of that name in the house that James and I had been living in. To this day neither of us actually use it, if anything I'm referred to more as a piece of property with limited freedoms and Mac…well Mac detests the idea of someone staking a claim on him. The most I can get away with is calling him my personal Satan or my beast (you get the picture) and even _that_ is pushing it. The whores that he fucks regularly have a running joke that I watched too much _Beauty and the Beast_ when I was kid and that I was trying to break of him of his murderous ways.

Truth be told it was (kind of) the other way around and quite possibly drifted to the more demented side. Yes, Mac had a more beastly side to him but what no one knew was that between the two of us, Mac was the tamer one. Since we took care of James, Mac has been "grooming" me. In the beginning, we'd go out together to these obscure hole-in-the-wall bars and he would pick out the one he wanted, we'd take 'em out to the caves, have our fun and be done with 'em. He said he didn't care if they were young or old, fat or skinny, blonde or brunette. All he cared about was satisfying his lust for blood. Lately though, my blood lust has become increasingly difficult to satiate.

Tonight was no different as we entered a new place.

"You already have one picked out, don't you?" I asked, feeling his eyes scan the room after taking a seat somewhere near the back of the bar.

"You're hiding something."

"What makes you say that?"

"Told ya to meet me in the caves at 5, you don't show up until almost 5:30; you don't answer your phone when I call, Walter don't know where you run off too. You're hiding something."

Before I could respond, a rather busty woman poured her tits onto our table. It shouldn't have surprised me that Mac took to her so quickly but then again I am grateful that Ms. Huge Tits showed up when she did (no more questions for now). Rolling my eyes I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms in front of my chest and watched the debacle that was unfolding before me. She openly poured her soul out to this raving lunatic and he only sat there, feigning interest. The more she droned on about some pathetic detail in her life the more irritated I got; if Mac didn't do something with her soon then I would.

"Mac," he barely tore his eyes away from the bitch he was entertaining to offer me a glance, "keys."

"Ain't gonna happen."

"Then buy me a drink."

A low, almost inaudible growl escaped from his throat but he complied with my request knowing that his outburst would cost us our newest playmate. Whatshername gave Mac a sympathetic look, produced a small notepad and scribbled down his Jack and Coke along with my Long Island. She laid a hand on his shoulder with a promise to return in a bit with a couple of water glasses; she then shot me a filthy look and sauntered off, swaying her hips in what she hoped to be a seductive manner.

"You got a stiff dick to sit on tonight or something?"

"Just yours."

"Where were you?"

"Busy."

"Tell me."

"Get this one in the truck and I'll show you."

Before Mac could reply our server returned with a tray loaded with drinks; she had no problems setting down the water cups or handing him his Jack and Coke but suddenly developed butterfingers when she "tripped" over her own feet and my Long Island "slipped" from hand, spilling alcohol down the front of my shirt and drenching my skin from the neck down. She put out a sugary sweet apology of sorts exclaiming that a sudden wave of dizziness had hit her out of nowhere. I could hear Mac snickering and audibly telling her I probably deserved it for making us late tonight.

To say that I was pissed was understatement and I would ensure that she pay for her mistake later tonight. Getting up from my seat, I stalked towards the bathroom to get the alcohol and soda mixture off of me before it dried. Pushing the door open to the bathroom I found it to be mostly empty, there was one stall that was occupied and someone pulling paper towels out of the hanger to dry their hands (she left shortly thereafter muttering that I must've been too shit-faced to find my mouth). Turning the faucets on I proceeded to pull a couple of paper towels out and pump as much soap onto them as I could.

As I was trying to get cleaned up, the toilet from the occupied stall flushed and the latch on the door released for the occupant to step out. She stood next to me at the only remaining sink, watching as I tried to scrub the alcohol out of my shirt.

"Another victim to Jen's 'butterfingers,' huh? Must be here with your boyfriend or something, right?"

"Not exactly my boyfriend but yeah, whatshername magically developed butterfingers."

"Better not stay in here too long if your man is out there, Jen's got a reputation for taking other women's men while they're in here getting cleaned up. I keep telling her one of these days she's gonna try to sink her claws into the wrong man and his woman ain't gonna stand for it. I would not be surprised if something were to happen to her. Oh, by the way, you're supposed to use cold water to get alcohol out of your clothes, not warm."

With that, she quickly turned the faucets off and dried her hands, leaving me to stand in front of the mirror with a faint bubble of a thought beginning to grow in the dark recesses of my mind. No doubt Mac was a big boy and could take care of himself but that doesn't mean I can't be a little possessive of him.

Having got as much liquor off my shirt as I could (figuring I'd change once we got to the caves or just rip it off when we got in the truck) I squared my shoulders back and exited the bathroom expecting to see Mac up to his old tricks. Sure enough, when I got a view of our table, she was sitting across from him (in my seat) and he was charming the panties off her. Rather than reacting in the manner I knew she was expecting, I made my way back over to the table and seated myself right into Mac's lap, throwing an over his shoulder for added emphasis (naturally it didn't faze him).

"Is this the one you want tonight?"

"Gotta problem with it?"

"Nope, I know you'll fuck who you want, when you want. Gonna make me sit in the corner and watch again?"

"What's your name again?" he asked, directing the question to our guest, his fingers teasing along the waist of my jeans.

"Jen and just so you know, I'm _only_ interested in _men_."

"Well, Jen, it doesn't matter what _you're_ interested in, it only matters what _Mac_ is interested in. You want this kinky fucker's dick you gotta play by his rules and be prepared, he likes it rough."

She smirked, lifting her head with a glint in her eye, "I like it rough."

"How rough? How far have you let someone go with you?" he asked, making sure Jen saw him slip his fingers inside my jeans. Admittedly, I had a difficult time suppressing the moan that escaped when his teeth snagged my ear.

"There was this guy a couple weeks ago, I let him use one of my scarves to tie me to the bed and used a paddle on my ass."

"Mac, I don't think she can handle you, hell she's probably never had a cock like yours either. Probably only ever handled a bunch of baby dicks."

"That's not true!" she protested loudly, banging her fist on the table.

"She's got spirit, gotta give her that; I like 'em with a bit of fire. Get in the truck."

"Get your fingers outta my pussy and I will."

"Look you two, I like a bit of kink every now and then but I've never had a three-way before. I don't-"

"No one said anything about a three-way, _Jen_. Mac likes to make me suffer, likes to make me sit in a corner to watch him slide his dick into some gutter whore and I'm not allowed to touch myself or nothing."

Before I could go any further into what was going to be a full-blown tirade, Mac's free hand clamped my lips shut, silencing me instantly.

"I'll keep my fingers where I want, 'sides I wasn't talking to you," he answered, taking his hand away from my mouth and turning his attention to Jen, "you wanna know how a real man fucks then get in the truck."

"My shift isn't over for another hour."

I could feel the low growl vibrate within his chest before I heard it; he didn't wanna wait for another hour to pass by, he wanted his new play thing now. The side of his face and neck were steadily growing red the longer he had to wait and I knew he wasn't gonna let this one go.

"Mac, we did come here for dinner maybe if we grab something to eat the next hour will be up before we know it. Besides, wasn't there something you needed to talk to me about anyway? May as well get that cleared up before we head home."

I'm not sure if my attempt to distract him worked or not, all I know was that an (uncalled for) orgasm hit me out of nowhere and my fingernails were biting hard into the back of his chair. I tried my best to hide my face in his neck so that Whatshername wouldn't see but Mac's teeth found my ear.

Let's just say this man knows how to play me like a well-tuned violin.

"If you can do _that_ with just your fingers, I can't wait to see what you can do with that cock."

"You should see what that wicked tongue can do first. Some days I'd rather take a good tongue lashing than a dick." I mused, feeling Mac's chest vibrate as he let out an evil chuckle.

"I suppose we could hang around until you get off. Get us a couple of burgers and if you're quick about it I'll throw in an extra twenty bucks for a tip. Me and the ole lady here got some shit to talk about so get going."

Jen took off with a giggle and quickly hopped to it; I reluctantly traded my seat on Mac's lap for the chair and waited until she was out of site before giving Mac the opportunity to tear me a new one.

"Where the fuck were you? I swear ya fucking lie to me once and I'll slit your goddamn throat right here."

"I was at home, in the basement working on something just for you. Walter told me today was your birthday and I got you a little something. The damn thing was giving me some problems and I ended up being late. I had my phone in the bedroom, on the charger so I never heard it otherwise I would've answered it."

"We take care of her and we're going straight home, if you're lying-"

"I'm not, Mac I have no reason to lie to you. You're like a fucking human lie detector, you know when someone's lying the minute they open their mouths."

"I hate surprises." He grumbled, picking up his drink and finally taking his first sip.

"I know but I think you'll like this one. You've never had a proper birthday or birthday present so-"

"Today's your birthday?! Oh, you _have_ to let me do something for you! It won't be much but I can get your burger and drink for free, ya know, employee discount."

I hate this preppy tramp! Why won't he just slit her fucking throat here and now?!

Her hands were laden down with plates, condiment bottles, and another tray of drinks. Mac's dinner was presented to him as if he were royalty and she was doing everything within her power to exceed his expectations to earn that extra twenty.

Mine?

Mine clattered to the table with an obnoxious sound that instantly had my eye twitching and was sending my blood pressure back up with the lack of customer service she was dishing out.

"Everything look alright? Can I get you anything else, _birthday boy_?"

"Nah, but you can take her shit back and have 'em remake it; that shit's fucking raw. I wouldn't even feed it to my damn dog. 'Cause I _know_ you did that fucking shit on purpose you ain't getting no fucking tip. Matter of fact, keep your damn employee discount, we're getting the fuck outta this shit hole! Let's fucking go!"

I knew bringing up the fact that today was his birthday would make him irritated but I didn't mean to say it so loud that Whatshername heard it; there was no way he was taking her back to the caves tonight, if anything _I_ was probably gonna be chained up to that wall and have _my_ throat slit after he was doing fucking me. I sighed inwardly as I resigned to the fact that tonight may be my last night alive and followed him out to the truck.

Mac already had the truck started by the time I made it outside; swallowing thickly I reached out and wrenched the door open to climb inside. Once the door was slammed shut, the tires slid along the gravel drive before hitting the pavement to head back to the town we called home. We were a little more than half way there before he spoke, breaking the silence.

"Didn't want her anyway, just wanted to see how you'd react."

"I fucked up too many times tonight, you don't have to tell me what you're gonna do to me, you don't have to tell me if you're gonna make me suffer, just don't-"

"The fuck are you talking about? Did that fucking whore put some shit in your drink?"

"I know you're gonna take me out to the caves; you're gonna put me on the wall, fuck me six ways to Sunday, then slit my fucking throat. You're gonna wrap me up in a tarp and throw my body over the side of one of the canyons. I made us late for dinner tonight, I made you call Walter to try and find me, I cost you your newest playmate, I found out personal details you didn't want me to know about. Let's face it, you're gonna kill me ten times over before you're satisfied that I'm dead."

"If I was gonna kill ya, don't you think I would've done it by now? 'Sides, ya told me ya had something for me at the house, kinda like to see it before I decide whether or not to kill ya." He offered me a rare smirk that he called a smile and turned down the gravel road leading to the house.

"If you make this worth the trouble of being late, I'll forgive ya otherwise ya know what's gonna happen."

He shut the truck off and killed the lights; I took off for the front door as he walked around to the side of the house to turn the generator on. Not too far off, maybe a few feet away, his poor excuse for a dog began barking its head off, circling around in its pen hoping for some kind of attention. I heard Mac muttering about that "stupid fucking animal" before he dipped out of sight to get it something to eat.

Opening the front door, I was hit with a blast of hot, humid air and the sounds of muffled screaming. Flipping a few of the lights on, I headed into the bathroom to find the bottle of ammonia and muriatic acid.

"You brought someone home? You know the rules, _always_ in the caves."

"I know the rules, but you were working out there today and I didn't wanna spoil the surprise and risk having you see her before I was ready for you to. I'm gonna put these in the truck if you wanna have a look-see at who I brought home."

"I already saw who it was, how the fuck did you talk her into coming here?"

"It was easy, I told her that I wanted to surprise you when you got home tonight, that you've been seriously considering a threesome and that you didn't want just some common whore; that you wanted someone with a few kinks. She took me back to her apartment and showed me what she kept in her drawers and I gotta admit, some of the stuff she has I wouldn't mind you using on me if I live to see tomorrow. I used the chloroform and one of your rags once she was back in the car; I didn't want her knowing where I was taking her. When I got her back to the house, I told her that I'd be back in a little bit with you and when she heard us up here to start acting like one our other playmates. She always wanted to be an actress, ya know."

"This whole thing was a set-up? She don't know what's really gonna happen?"

"I know you've had your eye on her for a while, just thought I'd take some initiative and get the ball rolling. I know it's not how you do things but I wanted to try, just this once. I promise, if I live through tonight, it won't happen again."

"You're making me love you," he smirked, grabbing the sides of my face to draw me in for a bruising kiss, "you get the truck packed up and wait for me out there, I'm gonna get our guest of honor."

Mac turned on his heel and left the confines of the bathroom, leaving me a little stunned and speechless. His heavy footsteps could be heard throughout the house, even more so when they hit each wooden step on the way down to the basement. Her muffled screams went silent as the tones of Mac's voice filled the air, his gruff voice nearly going hoarse each time he screamed at her. Finally, the unquestionable crack of flesh against flesh echoed through the air vents. Mac was in no mood to play games tonight.

Putting my ass in gear, I finished placing our supplies into the crate and hurried outside knowing that Mac wanted me out there before he slung her limp body into the bed of the truck. I had barely made it outside before Mac was hot on my heels with his birthday gift over his shoulder. He had barely set her on her feet when his fist began to pummel against her face (I counted seven strikes before she was knocked out).

Climbing into the passenger side of the truck I slammed the door shut and watched through the back window as Mac slammed the back of her head into the metal of the bed a couple of times; once he was satisfied that she wasn't gonna wake up for at least the next hour or two, he tied her hands in front of her chest and shoved a bag over her head (just in case). He stalked to the driver's side of the truck and climbed in, shoving the key into the ignition.

"Everything in there?"

"It's all there, the ammonia, the muriatic acid, the tarp; your knives and the stones are in the glovebox and so is your tin."

"You put your stuff in there too, didn't ya? Hoping you could make it up to me for letting that lil jabber-mouth get away?"

"If I had my way and you let me make it up to you, I'll bring her back later tonight and let you have your fun with her. Afterall, it wouldn't be _that_ difficult to track her down."

"Two for the price of one? Think this is shaping up to be the best birthday I've ever had."

We drove the thirty minutes through a barren desert to get to the caves, of course Mac left the headlights on to serve as a guiding light through the darkness but once the lanterns and the array of extension cords were turned on he'd shut the lights off so they didn't drain the battery. I had just finished laying down the tarp when Mac came stomping in with his present slumped over his shoulder; removing a length of chain from the wall I let the cuffs slide along the pulley system he had devised and then returned to my designated workbench to fulfill my assigned tasks.

"What do ya got going through that head of yours tonight? Any new ideas?"

"I got a couple but they involve the acid so that means we gotta be careful unless we wanna end up on the wrong end of the turkey baster."

"Turkey baster, huh? That's definitely a new one. Lemme know when she wakes up, gotta finish this order for Walter. Need those knives razor sharp, you remember how I showed ya?" Mac asked, his voice clearly indicating intrigue.

"I remember, you get to work and don't worry about her. I'll let you know when Sleeping Beauty is awake and I'll have your knives nice and sharp. By the way, I put your tin next to your mask and there's a bottle of Jack under your stool."

"How'd ya manage to sneak that past me?" His hands found their way to my hips and his teeth found their way to one of my ears.

"Stopped by the liquor store on my way back to the house with that one passed out in the front seat; hid it in the crate under the tarp after I got her in the basement." I answered, letting my head fall back against his shoulder.

"Shit, ya told me all that beforehand I wouldn't have wasted time on that bitch back there at the bar."

"Hopefully that'll help get me back into your good graces."

He let out a low growl before muttering 'mine' against my ear and sinking his teeth into my neck; he pulled me tighter into his chest the longer he bit down until I could feel the blood making a small stream down my collarbone and into the valley of my breasts. I could only hope this meant he forgives me for my transgressions earlier this evening.

"Go on, that order ain't gonna fill itself. And Mac? Happy birthday."


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Just a few quick housekeeping notes. 1) This was originally titled_ Beauty and the Beast _but after a lengthy conversation with FanFreak2002 I decided it was in the best interest of this story that a title change and updated synopsis was in order. 2) This is Mac and we all know he's capable of doing some messed up stuff. Consider this your warning/disclaimer. 3) This is the final chapter. I'm sorry it's taken this long to write/complete but it's just been kicking my ass. I really wanted this to be as horrific as possible and I hope it delivers. 4) Shout out to FanFreak2002 for being my beta on this last chapter, couldn't have done it without you! Let me know what you think on your way out._

 **Chapter 7**

"You sick, fucking _BITCH!_ You fucking lied to me!"

She's been at it with the name calling since she woke up, even with a slightly crushed larynx it was nothing short of shocking that Mac hadn't completely disabled her ability to talk. He will though, eventually.

He _always_ does.

"You said Mac wanted a threesome, you sa-"

"I said a lot of things and you were stupid enough to believe 'em. You know what Mac does, what he's capable of doing. Didn't you have an inkling of what was going to happen to you tonight when you woke up in a dark room chained to the floor? Didn't you have a clue when Mac came down and pummeled your face in? How stupid can you be?"

"I don't believe you, Mac would _never_ kill _me!_ _I_ suck his cock the way he likes; _I'm_ more compliant than anyone around here, especially _you!_ "

"HA!"

It came from the other side of the room, muffled by a gas mask but still reverberated off the walls with ease. Quickly turning my head in his direction I watched as Mac dropped what he was doing and rip the mask off, stalking towards the place where she stood with purpose.

"Sick of ya running your fucking mouth!"

The sound of bone cracking had me leaping off my tiny stool in shock yet I stood with my back to the wall watching intently as rivulets of blood started dripping from the corners of her mouth. She let out a small cry as the other side of her face was hit with just as much force. As I started to push myself away from the wall a tiny sound caught my attention: her teeth hitting the rock floor of the cave.

"Ya think you can suck my dick better than _her?_ Let's see ya fucking try! Swear if you even _think_ about biting me it'll be the last thing you _ever_ do!

Mac released the chain from the wall, letting her drop to her knees in a bloody heap. He already had his dick in his hand before she could bring herself to look up at him; with no warning he yanked her head back by the hair and shoved his dick into her mouth. Her cries went unanswered as he continued thrusting his hips into her face. The sound of her gagging on him admittedly had me a tad bit jealous.

However, Mac was so lost in his actions and rage that he failed to see the growing fire in her blackened eyes.

Mac reared back in pain, but quickly recovered; he stuffed himself back into his pants then demanded one of the freshly sharpened knives. Not knowing what he had in mind, I chose his pride and joy.

The buck knife.

"Told the fucking bitch _not_ to bite, fucking cunt's gonna pay! Show me what ya got."

"Mac?"

"Fucking heard what I said, it's my birthday, I say what goes, right? So fucking show me what you can do."

"Could you stand her up? Hold her head up? I want to see the fear in her eyes."

He let out an exaggerated sigh but no less did what I asked and held her blood soaked hair back, letting me see the full extent of what had been done to her so far. Small cuts littered her face and forehead, her eyes were heavily blackened and bore the petechial hemorrhages that come from being choked, her mouth was nothing short of a bloody mess thanks to Mac's fists knocking her teeth out, and her throat showed the handprints from where he strangled her.

Lifting the blade, her eyes widened at the realization that something was going to happen as the result of her insubordination. Positioning the serrations to one corner of her mouth I began sawing the thin skin until the blade wouldn't go any further. Her screams of agony filled the caves as she struggled against Mac and her chains.

"Keep it up, no one's coming to save you." Mac sneered, jerking her head back slightly.

Another blood-curdling scream burst through as I ran the serrations of the blade against the other side of her mouth. Once again, I stopped when the blade would go no further. Mac furrowed his brow, wondering exactly what I was doing but remained silent knowing I'd explain it to him later. Not wanting to give her the chance to breath I continued working on the corners of her mouth, letting the blade tear through the muscles of her face until I was satisfied that my next goal could be accomplished.

Wedging my thumbs into back of her mouth, I grasped the sides of her face and yanked down as hard as I could, waiting for the deafening screams to subside. When they finally did, I removed my hands from her mouth and awaited Mac's appraisal.

"Dislocated her jaw so she couldn't bite you again, in case you wanted to give face fucking her another try." I told him timidly when he came around.

"Looks like the damn Joker. Think it'd be hard to just rip her jaw off?"

"Thought crossed my mind, wasn't sure if that'd be taking it too far or not on my first time. I do still have plans for that turkey baster and the acid if you let me."

"Thinkin' you're turning into more of a monster than me."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It is if Walter ends up on your bad side. Show me what else you got; show me something I taught ya."

Nodding hesitantly, I let out a shaky breath as I tried to recall some of the lessons from Mac's teachings. Knife sharpening was one thing but actually carrying out one of his acts was another. There were so many to choose from and this fucker was pretty creative when he wanted to be.

Her slackened jaw continued to hang limply, streams of blood mixed with tears staining the floor as I finally made up my mind. Readjusting the knife in my hand I ran the edge of the blade against her skin, the cuts just deep enough to cause some blood to spring forth but nothing that would cause instantaneous death. I then asked myself 'what would Mac do?' The answer came in the form of a whisper to my ear and a steady, firm hand covering mine.

"Across the stomach, like an 'x.' Wanna see her spill her guts before the night is over. Go get the acid and the turkey baster, wanna see what ya plan to do with those."

Doing as instructed, I let Mac continue on without me while I grabbed the items I needed. Walking over to where the crate was I pulled my things out; as I turned around to go back to the wall I was greeted with the sight of Mac fucking this whore like a ragdoll. Her chains rattled loudly and she made no effort to make a sound.

I hope that whole thing with her jaw didn't kill her…

Pressing my luck further, I scooped up two pairs of gloves from Mac's workbench along with a pair of gas masks knowing the damage the fumes from the acid may cause should either of us breathe them in.

"Put these on when you're done." I told him, tucking the mask and gloves into the back pocket of his coveralls.

Dropping to my knees, I put my mask and gloves on then unscrewed the cap from the bottle of acid, letting the fumes fill the cave. A few minutes later I heard Mac's grunts and the chains quieting down. Glancing upward, Mac yanked his own mask down over his face and stooped down to help me with anything I may need.

"May wanna put those flames out over there just in case this shit goes flying across the room."

As Mac returned to his workbench to douse the flames, I placed the turkey baster into the bottle of acid and waited for Mac to come back, knowing that this was something he would want to see.

"Did you know that muriatic acid is just another name for hydrochloric acid? It's considered to be a highly corrosive chemical if it comes into contact with your skin. The fumes alone can cause pulmonary edema. Do you know what that is?"

Looking up at her I saw the defeated look in her eyes as she slowly shook her head.

"It's a collection of excess fluid in the lungs. As more fluid collects, the body struggles to get enough oxygen; you'll start getting shortness of breath. This shit, if ingested, can cause your throat and stomach to corrode. God forbid you piss Mac off even more, I'd hate to see what happens to those pretty eyes of yours."

"Don't be giving me fresh ideas."

"You know what the funny thing is about hydrochloric acid?" The cave remained silent as I started filling the turkey baster with the liquid. "It's actually found in the stomach; it's one of the acids that help to break down food. Ever had heartburn? This is the stuff that makes your throat burn."

"What'cha gonna do, pour it down her throat?"

"More like use it as a douche, see what happens. After that we can pour it down her throat, what do you think?"

"Think she pissed ya off at some point and you're making this personal."

"Nah, just want this to be the best birthday you ever had; make it memorable for you. You want to do the honors birthday boy?" I asked, holding the baster out.

I could see the smirk in his eyes as he stood fully and retrieved the gloves from his back pocket. His gloved hand gently wrapped around the bulb as he held it upright; she shook her head in fright, trying to plead with him despite the way her jaw hung. Standing next to him, I waited to see what he'd do with it; waited to see if he'd use it as a douche like I had initially planned or if he'd shove it down her throat. Perhaps he'd do both. I can never tell what's going on inside that head of his.

"Made a bit of a mess while your back was turned, think we should get that cleaned up a bit before we do anything else."

Her scream penetrated the stiff air as he shoved the culinary tool between her legs. Acid mixed with cum came out like a river. The skin on her thighs began turning an angry red as the acid started to eat away at the flesh. Within seconds her skin began to bubble, the lesions bursting open while the acid continued to rapidly eat away at her. The redness soon gave way to a rusted brown color.

Necrosis was starting to set in.

"What do you think'll happen if I put this in her eyes?"

"She'll go blind. If you wanna do it, go for it. But first, would you mind if I finished ripping her jaw off?"

"Go for it."

Stepping between her and Mac, I once again pressed my thumbs against her bottom teeth and rested my fingers along the underside of jaw. Using all of the strength I could muster I gave her mouth a hard yank. Feeling the hinges of her lower jaw disconnect from the upper I could almost hear the skin tear away as the remnants of flesh and bone hit the ground.

As her screams began to erupt all over again they turned to agony as Mac picked the bottle of acid up from the ground and poured its contents over the top of her head. It should've been a disturbing sight to see: the acid melting away any bits of flesh it touched, her hair falling away in chunks; she no longer looked like a person but rather a blob of liquefied flesh as it hit the ground.

Gradually her screams died down until all that remained were bits of skin and muscle dripping off the bone where her neck used to be. Holes were visible in the skull and in a final act to ensure her demise, Mac plunged the knife through her heart. The blade ripped a downward path to her pubic bone then, seconds later, her entrails were spilling onto the blood soaked ground.

"Get this mess cleaned up, we'll dump her on the way home." Mac finally said after a moment of silence. Ripping the mask away from his face he headed towards the entrance of the cave with a cigarette in hand.

I did as I was told and started cleaning up; retrieving the tarp from the crate I laid it underneath what was left of the body then lowered the chain. The idea to burn what was left of it came to mind but Mac probably would disapprove of that since he preferred to work under the cover of night rather give someone a reason to wander up this far. The hard part of tonight's clean up would be how to dispose of the melted parts that fell to the ground. Unfortunately, there wasn't a faucet so I couldn't just turn a hose on and spray the area down.

At least Mac left his shovel here otherwise he wasn't gonna be the least bit happy that something got left behind at the house. Using the shovel I scooped up what I could, dumping it on the tarp until I couldn't get anymore up. There wasn't much left on the ground by the time Mac came back in from smoking his cigarette. I was putting the shovel back and making a grab for the broom and dustpan when he started evaluating my clean-up efforts.

"Don't think I ever seen it this clean before. Really trying to make it up to me, ain't ya? Hoping I like it enough I'll fuck ya the way you like?"

"You could say that, although I do still feel bad for letting that blonde get away from you tonight. Really though, this was about giving you something Walter never did. You never got a birthday party when you were a kid let alone a present. You always pick out the ones you want and I knew you've had your eye on her for a while so I did my best to gift wrap her for you."

"Finish getting this cleaned up and we'll tie the ends off, she'll look like a damn tootsie roll by the time we're done. We'll go about forty miles to the east of here and dump her."

"And after?"

"I'm unwrapping my other gift and fucking you any way I want."

Knowing what lay ahead of me I quickly finished cleaning up the mess we made and grabbed some rope from the crate we initially brought in. True to his word, after the tarp was wrapped tight, Mac tied the ends off giving the appearance of an elongated, blue tootsie roll. Under normal circumstances Mac would just heft the package over his shoulder and carry it out, however neither of us wanted to clean up another mess so we each took an end and took it out to the truck.

Climbing in to the cab of the truck we drove the forty miles east and dumped the body as planned. As we proceeded to go back home I realized that we were passing by the same bar we stopped at earlier this evening. Mac would never let anyone know what he had on his mind but I had feeling that I knew.

"Pull the truck over, park it in back of the bar where no one can see."

"What are ya gonna do?"

"You'll see. It'll only take a couple of minutes, I promise."

Mac eyed me suspiciously but no less did what I asked without much of an argument. He killed the engine and the lights as soon as it was parked to avoid risking someone coming outside. Hoping out, I quietly closed the door, watching from the corner of my eye as Mac lit another cigarette; the cherry glow from the stick burning bright as he hung his arm out of the window.

Walking to the door that led to the kitchen, I snuck through the darkness listening to the different voices and trying to find the one that belonged to the bitch Mac wanted earlier. Even though she said her shift would end around 8 pm it was still possible that she was here counting her tips and bitching about the way Mac and I had treated her.

"Those two were complete sicko's, she wanted a threesome and he wanted to watch."

"Not what I heard Jen, they weren't searching for a threesome. He wanted someone he could fuck while she sat in the corner and played with herself. I don't think she's like a full-on lesbian but she may be bi."

"I don't care what she is, she doesn't deserve a guy like that though, I can tell ya that. He couldn't stop staring down my shirt the whole time they were here."

"I dunno Jen, he seemed to like her just fine. Never seen anyone _that_ possessive over another person before, I mean did you see the way he bit into her while she was sitting on his lap?"

"If anything, I did miss out on the chance to find out how big his dick was. Probably wouldn't be anything to write home about, probably just a little pecker the size of my pinky. I'll see you on Sunday, Anna."

Watching from the darkness, she crossed the room and headed for the back door in the kitchen. Following behind, I picked a knife up from the steel counter and walked out after her. The second the door hit the wall the high beams and flood lights from Mac's truck switched on, blinding her instantly. She tried to shield her eyes from the light but it was no use.

"Hello Jen."


End file.
